Good Politics
by bubblygoo
Summary: Misaki reduces herself to ask Usui for help. "Yeah, I'm a pervert. But I'm not playing games."
1. Chapter 1

Title: Good Politcs  
Length: 558

There were some things Misaki told herself never to do for money. Prostitution was number one.

"Does the president need my help?"

Asking Usui was number two. She never imagined herself cornering him n a classroom after hours, but the school was in desperate straits. Looking at him straight in the eye while blushing furiously, she nodded. "I know you're not what you seem. You go here even though you're well off enough to own half the city if you wanted."

He leaned forward against his desk and examined his nails. Such a feminine act would ridicule any other man, but not Usui. "Why does it concern the president? You'll be graduating this year, anyway."

"Seika High is still my school. And yours." Misaki hoped to appeal to that part of him that appreciated her nobler side for some reason. She'd learned Usui's caprice only submitted to his sense of justice. His eyes lost some of their playfulness, replaced by contemplation. She tried not to stare too long; she dealt with his teasing by putting on ignorance or calling him out if she was annoyed. His rare moments of lucidity and seriousness never failed to confuse and fascinate her, and confusion and fascination don't make good politics.

"That's true. And I don't want my last days here with you to be spent with you being mad at me." He sighed, feigning reluctance. "All right, then. I'll make sure Seika doesn't make any cuts it doesn't want to."

He stood up and grinned at her. Relief flooded her chest, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you, Usui." She turned to the door, more to stop looking at him than for any other reason. "Believe me, no one is sorrier than me that it's come to this. Your donation will be tax-deductible."

She took a step toward the door when his hand wrapped around her wrist. "Taxes?" She turned around. Usui had stood up and pushed his chair back. "I don't care about taxes. Come on, Misa-chan, you can do better than that."

His smile told her he was teasing again. She tried to shake her wrist loose, but his grip was firm. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want." He tugged her forward and spun her so that her back was to the desk, still grinning the entire time.

Misaki's face burned. Seeing that her hands were now free, she shoved him back, not with much force, but enough to tell him she wasn't in the mood for joking. "Quit it!"

He fell back, as she expected. "You're right. It just won't be the same without that maid outfit."

To Misaki's dismay, Usui was between her and the door. "Pervert! Now's not the time for your idiotic games."

"Yeah, I'm a pervert." She tried to brush by him, but this time it was his voice that caught her. "But I'm not playing games."

Usui took his bag and walked briskly out the door but stopped to turn back to her, his smile now dangerously handsome. "I would walk you home, Misa-chan, but I've business. I'll see you tomorrow."

It was only until she could no longer hear his footsteps when Misaki allowed herself to breathe again. After closing the windows and locking the classroom door, she realized that there was no school the next day.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kaichou Wa Maid-sama, and no copyright infringement is intended.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunday was Misaki's sole and much appreciated reprieve from school and work. She loved to sleep in and indulge in a heartier breakfast prepared by her mother, who had the time to put something extra in it. Some days, she would go out with Sakura and Shizuko, going along with whatever trend had caught Sakura's attention that week. Other times, Sunday was designated Ayusawa family day, and she would spend the day with her mother and sister, helping with whatever kitchen chores the two delegated to her, culminating in an extensive family dinner.

Occasionally, however, she had no plans and stayed home doing homework. In Misaki's busy life, this was perhaps the most boring and most relaxing way to spend her Sunday. Thanks to Usui, she couldn't even have that.

"Why do you look so unhappy to be here?" he asked. Misaki never imagined it possible for someone to look so devious while wearing a flowery apron and holding a tray of delicately prepared tea cakes. "Go on. I know you're dying for one."

She hated how Usui could read her thoughts so easily. Not only was it true that she really did want one of those things (she had no idea was it was called or what was in it, nor did she care), but she also hated his apartment. Spacious and clean with a great view of the city, it represented everything that separated Misaki and Usui. He was born gifted and charismatic, full of intrigue and charm, while she was simple and crass, and her biggest secret was a demeaning part-time job. She envied him more than anything, but never did she plan to ask him for help or charity, and for good reason: now that she had, he would never wipe that perverted grin off of his face.

Or maybe that grin was her imagination. She never gave him enough credit, though she would never tell that to him.

"Maybe later," she said, not willing to say no completely, yet not wanted to give in quite yet. She brushed by him quickly, trying to ignore that delicious waft of whatever it was, and looked for a place to set down her bag.

"Anywhere's fine," he said, putting down the tray on the table. She put her bag down and tried to nudge it under the couch with her foot. Usui bent down to take it just in time so that her knee jerked up into his gut.

"Sorry, reflexes."

Usui, who apparently had not noticed, opened her bag to find notebooks, textbooks, and a receipt from the sports store for some new dumbbells. "Ms. President, you've forgotten your maid costume," he whined. "This is terrible. Now what are you going to wear?"

"I left it at the café, which is closed today, as I'm sure a dedicated costumer like you should know. Whatever slave labor you want me to do, I can do it with what I'm wearing now."

He sighed dramatically and looked her over. "I suppose. But it'll be more difficult for you."

Misaki furrowed her brow. Although her maid outfit didn't restrict her especially, it certainly didn't make movement any easier. "Usui, just what do you have in mind?"

Usui took out one of her notebooks and flipped through it. "Oh, that's right; we have an exam coming up. You should study for it, judging by this. I think your answer's a bit off."

"Stop changing the—damn it, I knew it looked weird! What did I do wrong?"

"It's the sine of ninety-eight Newtons, not the cosine. The cosine would be the natural force."

"Oh, of course!" Misaki whipped out her eraser and calculator and began to punch in numbers, not noticing that Usui had gotten a pastry and pressed it against her mouth. She took a bite, causing a few flakes of crust to fall onto her paper. Usui chuckled and brushed them off.

"You're so easy sometimes, Ayuzawa."

"What are you talking about, idiot?" she said through a mouthful of strawberry mousse.

Usui took her notebook and pencil from her. "Looks about right," he said.

"If it's right, why are you writing so much?"

She seized her notebook from him, but not before he wrote "MISAKI + TAKUMI" in a heart in large ornate characters all over her notes. He had written the words darkly but not thickly, so that her notes were still legible, but she had no hopes of erasing the offending phrase without erasing her notes.

"You idiot! Takahashi said that he would collect these notes!"

Usui, meanwhile, had wisely decided to move so that the couch and table were between them. "Wow, I can feel the heat radiating from your face all the way over here."

Misaki let out a battle cry and charged towards him, taking care not to harm the precious pastries on the table. She did not know exactly what she was going to do when she reached him, only that it would involve a lot of groveling on his part.

"Relax," he said, "It's not as if he cares as long as the notes are there. I'm sure he gets love confessions like these all the time."

She answered by throwing her bag at him, causing him to fall backward onto the couch. She ran at him and sat on him before he could recover, telling herself that the annoyingly smug smile on his face was because he was a lunatic, and definitely not because she was doing exactly what he wanted. "HA! I win!"

"Oh, yes you do, Ayuzawa." He wrapped his arms around the small of her back. "Captured by the demon president." He pulled her towards him, forcing her to splay her hands against his chest so that she didn't fall onto his face. "I'm terrified." He blew into at her bangs, which only made her face heat up more.

Misaki could only splutter. "W-what are you—I don't—this is—" Usui, still whose smile could only widen, shifted his hands down. "Get your hands away from there!" she cried, slapped his arms away.

Usui burst into laughter. "Why is it that it's so easy for me to make you mad?"

"I guess it's just your nature," she hissed.

He wrapped his arms around her again, eyes full of mischief. "Which buttons should I press to get you to do other things?"

Although Misaki had been sitting for some time now, her heart started to jump faster than it had when she was running laps around the room. "How should I know?" Her voice sounded shakier and softer than she intended. Usui's smile widened.

"I guess I'll have to guess and check then," he said, and kissed her. After the first five seconds, Misaki realized that he did not plan on stopping anytime soon. Another five seconds, and Misaki wondered what she should do with her hands. After twenty seconds, they were comfortably situated behind his head and on his back. After thirty seconds, she stopped counting.

Therefore, Misaki had no idea how long they had been at it when a knocking came at the door. She oddly felt the sound like a jolt of electricity, causing her to unglue herself from Usui's mouth.

"Ignore it," he said, and pulled her forward.

The knocking grew louder and faster. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"But Presideeent," he whined, "I was so close."

"Close to what?" she asked, the more learned and dirty part of her very afraid of what the answer could be.

"Close to pushing the right button."

Misaki was sure that he hadn't pressed any wrong buttons, given the amount of time they were sucking face. She was about to say something about the ungodly amount of stairs she had to climb to get up to his apartment since he elevator was broken, and that the least he could do was answer the door, when the knocking stopped and the door fell down.

Standing at the door with a luggage bag behind her was a girl who looked very beautiful and very unhappy to have climbed all those stairs. Her foot, clad with white two-inch heels, was still raised after kicking the door down. The girl had on a white sleeveless dress that revealed her good amount of cleavage and just enough makeup to accentuate her full lips, round cheeks, and inquisitive eyes. She had short, brown hair, curled at the ends; Misaki estimated the girl herself to be about half a head shorter than her.

"Good evening," she said while brushing a stray hair away. The girl's eyes fell on Misaki, who realized in horror what sort of position she was in. "I hope I'm not interrupting something."

Takumi made no attempt to stop Misaki from scrambling away from him, though he did help her up after she fell with her back against the floor "Not at all," he said. "This is Ayusawa Misaki. She's my maid."

Misaki turned her head so fast that she slapped Usui with her hair. "What?!" she whispered.

"I told you to wear your uniform."

The girl at the door cleared her throat. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Ayusawa," she said, crossing the floor and kissing Misaki on both cheeks.

"P-pleased to meet you, too… um…"

"Ayusawa, this is Satsuya Sachi," said Usui, still standing near the couch with his hands in his pockets. "My fiancée."


	3. Chapter 3

The next day at school, nobody asked why so suddenly the student body president and her faithful lapdog refused to talk to each other, or why said lap dog had a very red right cheek and yet a pallid left, or why, the weekend after the principal warned of several lay-offs and reduced funds, there was a long overdue construction crew on site set to remodel the horrendous rest rooms. Nobody asked, but everybody wondered, except one.

Misaki had told only one other person of the secret of Seiki high's new budget. There was only one person she trusted to not disclose the information to nosy journalism students or even the staff; Misaki respected Usui's desire for privacy, but she didn't want to be burdened with the knowledge alone, and she knew better than to make such important decisions autonomously. However, judging by Misaki and Usui's interaction, or lack thereof, Yukimura suspected that Usui had been far too indiscreet about his private life than Misaki would like.

As curious as he was, Yukimura, more than anyone else, knew better than to ask about Misaki's personal life. He could ask her how to process these papers and how deal with that teacher and what punishment was suitable for what crime, and she would answer all of his question with efficiency and patience, but there was a tacit agreement between them that whenever Usui came in and the two suddenly disappeared from view, no questions were asked. Even if, he reminded himself, the president is so bothered by whatever happened that she was signing her approval for the Senior Superiority Over Underclassmen Club while seeming to stare right through the paper.

"Um… President?"

"What is it, Yukimura?" Her voice didn't even have that terse quality when she was trying to get something done.

"I don't mean to pry, but are you sure it's okay for the Chemistry Club to experiment after hours, unsupervised, with leftover chemicals from their acid and bases lab?"

"No, that's absolutely ridic—Oh." Misaki quickly scribbled out her name and slammed the "REJECTED" stamp on the paper with more ferocity and speed than Yukimura thought she had. "Well, thank you Yukimura. You can go back to work now."

Fearing for the longevity of the stamp and ink, Yukimura nodded and headed back to his desk. Even the stack of papers higher than his head couldn't make him feel better.

School, at last, ended, and Yukimura prepared to go home. He had managed to reduce the stack to about half of its original size and tried not let the thought of even more papers that would replenish the stack tomorrow ruin his accomplishment. Misaki, across the room, kept her head bowed all day as she worked through her share and some of other's as well, though Yukimura reminded himself to quality check hers in the morning.

"Um… President?"

"What is it, Yukimura?"

"I think I'll go home now. See you tomorrow."

"All right. See you tomorrow. Good work today."

Smiling to himself, Yukimura left the Student Council room ready for a nap to prepare for the two hours of wrestling with his Japanese homework. He arrived at his locker to find Kanou already waiting for him.

"Why do you always look so happy after school?" Kanou asked, clearly not happy to be there.

"Would it be more appropriate to happy before school? And I've told you before, you don't have to wait for me."

Kanou shrugged. "I wouldn't want you to get attacked on your way home. You give off an aura of vulnerability, you know."

"Actually, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about, Kanou-kun." Yukimura opened his locker and put away his math book, at which point, Kanou said, "You don't bring your math book home?"

"I've never really had to. Japanese, on the other hand, I—"

But Kanou never learned about that Japanese did to Yukimura, for at that point Yukimura froze and then began to rummage through his extremely organized locker while whispering "Oh no" over and over to himself.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't find it!"

"Find what?"

"My Japanese notebook! But I put it right here—It's got my notes and the prompt and my rough draft and everything and if I don't find it, I'm going to fail the essay because there's no way I can do it from memory or at least it'd take me—"

"Run on sentence."

"You're not helping, Kanou!" cried Yukimura as he seized Kanou by the shoulders. "Where could it be?"

Kanou sighed and peeled Yukimura off of him. "Did you try the student council room?"

"Of course I—oh. Of course! Thanks, Kanou-kun, I'll be right back!"

Yukimura ran off, leaving Kanou alone, who realized that, the time being a quarter to six, he had no hope of making it home before dinner and might as well follow the other boy and comfort him when he realized his notebook wasn't there.

Yukimura was never very athletic, but it was rumored that he once outran a bus when he realized he left his homework on it. He always denied that rumor (while blushing), but in this case, he managed to run from his locker on the third floor to he student council room on the first in a record thirty-two seconds (Misaki had set the previous record at thirty-five while chasing a pair of renegades who had the guts to set off the sprinklers in their math class to avoid a test). When he arrived, he was relieved to find the door still open. He was about to go in, when he saw not only Misaki, but Usui as well.

"Eighty-six percent," said Usui.

"I think I know what I got on my own test."

"Eighty-six percent."

Yukimura craned his head around the door frame to get a better look (so he could get the notebook, _the notebook_), but Misaki and Usui were sitting out of view.

"What is the hell is your problem? You ignore me all day, and the first thing you say is how pathetically low my test score was?"

"I only ignored president because I was too afraid that she would hit me again if I talked to her."

"Look, I'm sorry about that. I overstepped my boundaries. It won't happen again."

"How surprising! The president is apologizing to me for something I actually deserved."

"Shut up."

Yukimura heard the sound of a chair squealing against the floor.

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

"Really? Then why'd you hit me?"

"I—what was I supposed to do?"

"You could have stayed for dinner. I worked so hard on it, especially for you."

"Stop it!"

She slammed her pen down.

"I don't know what you're playing at. You—you call me over and—_do things_…"

"It's called kissing."

"And then a girl walks in, whom you've been expecting all day, and it turns out she's your fiancée?! And you introduce me as your maid! Damn it, Usui! I can't believe you!"

"It's an arranged marriage."

There was a pause.

"At least, that's what I'd like to say. I actually did propose to her."

"Get out of my office, you scumbag."

"When I was ten, that is. And technically, I own this office now."

There was another pause, followed by footsteps.

"Wait, Ayusawa."

"Usui, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I really don't care."

"Our parents introduced her to me when I was five. It's not an arranged marriage, but it might as well be. My point is, Ayusawa, I don't love her. I can't call off the marriage yet, and we might even have to tie the knot before we can cut the string, but—"

"One: that analogy was disgusting. Two: It doesn't matter. I'm not going to be the reason you leave this girl out in the cold. I don't like men who run out on their families, remember?"

"Don't be so conceited. I never planned to stay with Sachi, or go along with any of my parents' stupid little plans. And she isn't like you: she won't be forced to attend a school that isn't good enough for her, or work at a job she hates, or ask the scumbag that just saved her school to get out of her office. But you're right; it was a pretty cheesy analogy."

There was another pause. Yukimura's legs were starting to ache.

"What are you doing?" Kanou clamped his hand over Yukimura's mouth before he could react.

After Yukimura's heart calmed down, he pulled Kanou's hand off. "They're having a conversation. It would be rude to interrupt."

"She's staying with you, right? Where does she sleep?"

"There's a bedroom. You've just never seen it."

"And you've never used it. Where is she going to school?"

"Miyabi-goaka Academy. Looks like you won't run into her much."

"Who's she?" asked Kanou.

"Um… er… shh!"

"I still don't know what you want from me, Usui."

"I don't know either."

Again there was silence, but Yukimura could tell without looking why.

"They're doing something, aren't they?"

"Quiet!" hissed Yukimura.

"You're blushing. So girly."

There were sounds of paper rustling, and Kanou pulled Yukimura back into hallway just before Misaki came out of the room.

"I'm not kissing you again," she said, wiping her mouth with her hand.

Usui came out after her, looking pleased with himself. "That's all right. I can replay that moment in my head over and over again." He pursed his lips and began to make out with the air.

Misaki giggled before clamping her lips together. "Idiot. And I did not look like that."

"Yes, you did. See?" Usui titled his head in imitation of Misaki's height and batted his eyelashes.

Misaki laughed out loud. "Stop it! I have to get home. Oh shoot, I forgot to lock the door."

Yukimura stood stone-still as Misaki and Usui left before running up to the student council room's door and pulling. "No…" he sobbed.

"You should have just asked," said Kanou. "She probably wouldn't have minded."

Yukimura collapsed and fell into a pile on the floor. "I'm doomed."

Kanou had to pick up Yukimura, who was sobbing and babbling incoherently to himself, and drag him to the school's entrance, where they found Yukimura's notebook on the steps.


	4. Chapter 4

As much as she hated it in the beginning, Misaki began to regard the café as a haven, far from the responsibilities of home and school. Here she was surrounded by friends, the lovely staff of Maid Latte, and the customers were, surprisingly enough. Her heart no longer jumped every time the bell rung to signal a coming customer, for now she knew the type to come into these cafes well enough. The idiot trio became slightly more tolerable (but not less idiotic).

As for Usui, he took the longest time for her to acclimate to, and even now, he still managed to make Misaki jump when he appeared out of nowhere. Serving him sundaes became second nature, yet she still couldn't tell if that teasing smile of his when he offered her a taste was benevolent or not. Despite Misaki's grudging acceptance and (dare she say it) affection for him, Usui's very presence still managed to unnerve her.

Why, then, did his absence bother her even more?

"Your frowning is scaring the customers," said Honoka. She was carrying a platter of sundaes, which brought Usui back into Misaki's thoughts. Misaki tried to physically shake him out, but that only made things worse. Honoka only sighed. "Here. Take these to table five. It'll take your mind off of things."

"Of course, Honoka-san." Misaki curled her lips upward and greeted the customers in the sweetest voice she could muster. (Whenever she served Usui, she spoke frankly, and her smiles were rare until he made a joke so terrible she just had to laugh.)

When Misaki returned to the kitchen, she found Honoka and Satsuki whispering to each other. Misaki set down her platter as quietly as she could, but Satsuki still turned around at the slightest sound of silver against the countertop.

"Misa-chan," she said, clearing her throat, "It has come to my attention that there is an egregious rumor that Usui-san has a fiancé." She paused and stared holes into Misaki, who suddenly felt as if she was being accused of a terrible crime.

"It's true, Manager. I met her myself. She seems quite nice."

Satsuki's eyes widened as Honoka's eyes narrowed. "It's true?" asked Satsuki. "Oh, dear. I always thought Usui-san was a gentleman, too."

"How odd that he never mentioned her, or that he shamelessly attempted to worm his way into the pants of one of our employees," said Honoka with her dangerous smile. "I think I know what to put in his sundae the next time he orders."

"Are you sure, Misa-chan?" asked Erika as she entered the kitchen. "One omelet, one special," she said to the chef. "It seems so unlike him."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"That's a shame. It's all right, though, hon, you were too good for him anyway. You'll find someone better." She left with a platter of drinks before Misaki could respond.

"That's not—I don't—"

"It's fine, Misa-chan; you don't have to say a thing. The girls and I are working everything out. Now, take these," Satsuki handed Misaki a platter of desserts, "To table four. The mango mousse belongs to the handsome young man near the window. His friends are talking about setting him up, so work your magic!" Satsuki pushed Misaki out of the kitchen with a wink, despite Misaki's spluttering.

Seeing no other choice, Misaki made her way to table six with a smile that she tried not to force too obviously. To her dismay, the young man near the window really was handsome. He had a different kind of good looks from Usui, with an open face and easy smile. "Good afternoon, gentleman. May I ask who ordered the cheesecake?"

"Over here."

"The chocolate soufflé?"

"Thank you."

She was absolutely not saving the mango mousse for last because of what Satsuki said. It was just happened to be furthest on the platter.

"The apple tart?"

"That's me."

"And so the mango mousse must belong to… you," she said, placing the dessert in front of the young man by the window.

"Thank you so much."

"Of course. Please enjoy." She walked away from the table, giving a slight sway to her hips. Why, she had no idea.

"Dude," one of the men whispered to the mango mousse man, "She's totally into you."

"No, she's not." But she felt his eyes on her back.

"Dude, she left your dessert for last, even though it was right in front of her! It's a sign! Call her back, or something."

She set the platter down to retie her boots. She heard a slight scuffle, then a cry, "Excuse me!"

She brought the smile back to her lips as she returned to the table. "Yes, master?" The men exchanged smug grins.

"I know I don't even know your name, but… would you like to go out sometime?" He smiled warmly at her.

And then it all felt so wrong. This mango mousse man asking her on a date, her smile, her boots, her maid outfit, and that conspicuously empty table where Usui always sat: it was wrong. Suddenly, she hated herself for playing this game. Her smile fell and resurrected with remorse in the place of flirtation. "I'm sorry, but no."

The mango mousse man was rescued from the awkward situation when Misaki heard the door open. She turned to look, hoping that to see Usui.

She saw instead that beautiful woman who had interrupting their kissing session, and that woman saw her. "Ayuzawa-san!"

"Whoa, dude! Check her out!"

"Is this where you work, Ayusawa-san? I didn't believe Takumi when he told me." Sachi, wearing a white coat, matching fluffy boots and hat, white gloves, and a string of pearls, looked utterly out of place in a shop tat prided itself on its coffee and chocolate desserts. She sauntered over to Misaki, who was paralyzed from shock. "Are you all right, Ayuzawa-san?"

"Y-yes. Let me show you to a table, Satsuya-san."

Satsuya sat down and opened the menu Misaki handed her gingerly. "I don't know what to order."

"Take your time. I'll be back soon, but if I'm not, don't be afraid to ask one of the other maids."

"Actually, Ayusawa-san, I was hoping to talk to you about…"

But just what, Misaki didn't hear, for she retreated to the safety of the kitchen as quickly as she could. She peeked out from the window in the doors and was relieved to see that Sachi was flipping through the menu and not coming after her. "No. No. This can't be happening," she whispered to herself.

"What is it, Misa-chan?" asked Subaru. She had changed out of her maid outfit and was about to go home.

"Usuisfianceishere," Misaki hissed.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"_Usui's fiancé is here!_"

Misaki then heard a chorus of "WHAT" from each of the staff members as they rushed to the kitchen door. "Where is she?" asked Erika. "Whoa! It's not the lady at table three, is it?"

Misaki could only nod.

"Oh my goodness," whispered Satsuki. "She's gorgeous."

"Stunning," said Subaru.

"Magnificent," said Honoka.

"I can't go back out there," wailed Misaki. "Can someone else take her order?"

Erika tore her gaze from Sachi and gripped Misaki by the shoulders. "Now look here, girlfriend! She might be one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on, but that's nothing to be afraid of! You're nothing to pass up, yourself!"

Satsuki nodded fervently. "You're an amazing girl, Misa-chan, and don't forget, you have a maid costume on! Now go out there and show her what you've got!"

And so for the second time that day, Misaki found herself being shoved out of the door and almost fell into Sachi's lap. "Ah hem. Are you ready to order, Satsuya-san?"

"Um, yes, I think so. I'll have a coffee."

Misaki scribbled the order down onto her note pad and was about to leave when Sachi called to her to wait. "I don't mind getting the coffee later. Please, sit."

"I couldn't," Misaki said quickly. "There are other customers."

"There are other maids," said Sachi. "Please. I insist."

Misaki swallowed her fear only to regurgitate it as she pulled out a chair and sat.

"Now," said Sachi, "You've probably gotten Takumi's side of the story, which is to say that you're clueless about everything."

"Uh… yeah, I guess so." Misaki wasn't used to being called clueless at anything, never mind everything.

"Then listen. Takumi and I have known each other since we were born. Our parents are very close friends and very fierce rivals. They were hoping to consolidate their estates with our marriage, so they introduced us to each other when we were five. We got along as well as toddlers could, even though all we had in common was our wealth. One day, Uncle Usui showed Takumi an engagement ring and said to him, 'Do you know what this is for?' Even back then, Takumi was a genius at everything, and so he said, 'Yes. This is what I must give to Sachi.' And so we were engaged. We were ten.

"Then we started to grow up, and in my case, think beyond what our parents told us. Takumi and I continued to see each other. We went to the same schools and competed for the top grades, only it wasn't much of a competition. I was never very good at studying. Neither was Takumi, but he never needed to. I suppose it was only inevitable that I fell in love with him.

"Then when we were twelve, we went to England for a year. I was so excited. This was going to my chance to make Takumi fall in love with me, away from our parents. It was Christmas Eve. I put on my favorite dress, did my makeup, and styled my hair like Princess Diana. I took out my engagement ring and put it on, for the first time. I telephoned him and told him to meet me at the Globe Theater.

"Takumi was there, looking like a prince. I was so in love that I didn't notice that he never once told me how nice I looked. We watched _Romeo and Juliet_. I thought it was so fitting for us. We were walking home. It was snowing lightly, so gorgeous. A snowflake landed on my cheek, and I was waiting for him to brush it off. He didn't, so I thought I'd get his attention by telling him I loved him.

"But he didn't notice, because just then, we heard a scream. It was right next to us in the nearest alley. A girl was being raped by a man. I was scared and wanted to run, but Takumi just went up to the man and subdued him as easily as if Takumi was the man and the rapist the boy. The girl was crying as Takumi helped her up, and she clung to him. Even then, Takumi was tall and handsome. We took her home with us, and Takumi ate dinner with us.

"He asked her questions. Where she was from, what her name was, how was she going to get home. By the end of dinner, she was in love with Takumi, too. It occurred to me that Takumi had never asked me anything before. That night, the girl stayed in my room, and Takumi slept on the couch. That was the only night he came into my room. By the time we returned to Japan, I had fallen out of love."

Ice crept up Misaki's spine as she digested Sachi's story. A girl in an alley: hadn't Usui met Misaki in an alley, as well? But that was different, she wasn't being raped, and the only time she had encountered scum like that, she had taken care of them herself…

"Finally, when Takumi was about to enter high school, his parents gave him permission to attend whichever high school he would like. I'm unaware of the circumstances, but I wasn't surprised when he chose a dirt-poor school like Seika, knowing that my parents would never allow me to follow him, nor did I want to. I studied abroad until I was called back by my parents. They said that I should be back in time for my own wedding."

The café was nearing closing time. All of the customers had left, but Misaki had a feeling everyone, including Subaru, who had an exam to study for the next day, would be waiting for her in the kitchen. Thus, even the kitchen no longer provided safe harbor for her. "When are you getting married?"

"When we graduate from high school. That's a bit more than a year, then. Listen, Ayuzawa-san. I don't know what kind of relationship you have with Takumi—"

"Usui and I don't have a relationship—"

"Other than an unhealthy one," Sachi continued, nonchalantly. (And to that Misaki had no rebuttal.) "But if you want to preserve it, convince Takumi to do something about our engagement. I have no opinion either way. However, I do suggest that you be careful about Takumi. He likes to keep secrets."

Sachi pushed out her chair and made to leave.

"Wait!" called Misaki. She dashed into the kitchen, pushing past the other maids, and prepared a coffee to go. In record time, she gave it to Sachi, who stood bemused.

"Thank you, I suppose. Where do you import your coffee beans, by the way?"

"I don't know. And it's on the house."

Sachi nodded, and Misaki pretended not to notice when Sachi dumped the coffee onto the street when she exited.

Misaki chose to put up the chairs on the table instead of going back to the kitchen. Before long, the staff of Maid Latte poured out and poured out their questions with them.

"What did she say?"

"Did you see what brand her bag was?"

"How did she find out about the café?"

"Did she just waste a cup of _my_ coffee?"

Misaki did her best to answer all of the questions. Somehow, she felt as though she was going to need the advice of the lovely staff of Maid Latte. Yet, for all of their questions, none of them asked the one question Misaki had: what was she going to do now?


	5. Chapter 5

The last thing Misaki needed was to plan another fundraiser, but she hated the thought of relying of Usui's money for even a second longer than she needed to. At least it gave her an excuse to stay at school late; the last thing she wanted was for a certain someone to tag along after her and offer to walk her home.

A bake sale. It seemed simple enough: design, print, and distribute flyers, find out who was making what, establish prices, and find a date and location. It seemed so easy. So why was she sitting at her desk, holding her head?

She could hear Sakura fretting behind her chair to Shizuko. She told the two of them to go home, they insisted on waiting for her. Now all three of them were at school at six, and whose fault was that? Certainly not hers.

"Go home, you guys. It's my job to do this, not yours." She made a display of sketching a poster, but she was never good at drawing.

"Is it really the bake sale that's bothering you?" asked Shizuko, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"Of course it is. Our school needs this money."

Shizuko and Sakura shared a glance. The shorter girl chewed her bottom lip.

"Sakura thinks this has something to do with Usui."

"Shizuko! Couldn't you have put that more gently?"

"Did I say something wrong?" Sakura only wrung her hands. Shizuko placed a hand on Misaki's shoulder. "We're worried about you, Misaki."

Misaki shook the hand off and plastered on a smile. "There's nothing to worry about, Shizuko. I'm fine, really." Shizuko only frowned, which riled Misaki's nerves even more. Couldn't her friends see that she couldn't talk about this with them, that she wanted to be alone? "It's nothing," she said, words biting and closed for conversation.

"Why are you being like this, Misaki? Don't you trust us?"

All of Misaki's anger melted into guilt as she turned her chair to see Sakura's eyes damp and frustrated. "Of course I do. I trust you more than anyone."

Sakura shook her head wildly. "No, you don't. You've been keeping secrets from us for a long time, and we've known, but we didn't say anything because we thought you'd be okay. But now you are definitely NOT OKAY!"

"S-Sakura! Don't cry—really, it's nothing, you're exaggerating! Shizuko, do something."

Shizuko crossed her arms. "I'm sorry, Misaki. She's right."

Sakura sniffed and wiped her face. "Of course I am! You may not tell me everything, but I still know you better than anyone else. Except Shizuko."

"Thanks."

That was the funny thing about Sakura, Shizuko, and Misaki; even when they were fighting, they could still make each other laugh. Misaki was having the first argument that made her red in the face, but she felt better than she had in days. "I'm sorry, Sakura, Shizuko. You're right. I am definitely not okay."

This was not how she was planning to tell Sakura and Shizuko about the maid café.

"Oh my gosh, Misaki, that's awful. What's the pay like?"

"No, Sakura."

"But Shizuko—"

"No."

This was not how she was planning to tell them about Usui and Sachi and the truth about the school's mysterious financial miracle.

"Good riddance, Misaki. He was never good enough for you anyway."

"But Shizuko, I haven't really said goodbye to him yet."

"I'll do it for you."

"No, Shizuko."

"But Sakura—"

"No."

But then again, she never really planned to tell them anything at all.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. There's no way the school can raise enough money to pay Usui back."

It was seven in the evening now. They really should get home. A trio of girls in their school uniforms, walking home this late, was asking for trouble.

"I don't get what the problem is," said Sakura, barely holding back a yawn. "It's not like he's using it against you, is he?"

"He might," said Shizuko. "I don't think it's a coincidence that he effectively bought our school at the same time his fiancé came to town. But I also don't think there's anything we can do about it."

"Usui cares about Misaki. He'd never hurt her."

"Clearly, there's a lot about him that we don't know. Has he ever told you anything about his parents?"

"No. I've avoided asking him. I don't want to think about the kind of people who made THAT."

"I bet they're beautiful," sighed Sakura, fatigue replaced by fantasy, no doubt fueled by the sunset. It was time for them to leave.

"You know what they say about beauty. It's too suspicious, Misaki. It's not that I don't trust your judgment, but—"

"I wouldn't blame you," laughed Misaki. "I haven't shown very good judgment lately. Asking Usui that—how stupid. What was I thinking?"

"Misaki, don't be so hard—"'

"Let's go home." Misaki pushed in her chair and straightened up her papers. As always with Shizuko and Sakura, she was able to get something done without even realizing it. She left the classroom without looking back, knowing they'd follow her.

"I have to lock up," she said to the other girls. "Security, you know." They nodded and agreed to wait for her outside of the main entrance.

The empty school hallways were becoming more and more of a familiar sight to her. She ran, anxiously aware of the time, recalling all those times she nagged the boys not to run and punched them when they did. The principal had locked his door, as he always did. But in the dim lighting of the sun through the windows, she saw an envelope on the floor. The principal must have dropped it in his usual flurry to get things done. She could have waited until the next day to give it to him, but wasn't things like this the reason she had a key to his office?

Misaki turned the knob, and to her surprise, there were a spread of papers covering the normally scrupulously clean desk of the principal.

Misaki was not nosy. She was respectful of her boundaries, maybe even too much so. But it was hard to ignore something that was right in front of her, especially when they were blown up photos beside fancy-looking documents, especially when she could recognize one of the faces.

"Sachi."

There she was, with longer hair, standing beside people who could only be her parents. She had her white fur coat wrapped around her tightly, cheeks red and eyes unhappy. A woman, with Sachi's brown hair, had her arm wrapped around a man, with Sachi's brown eyes. The man was shaking hands with someone in a suit, balding and stout.

Another picture, this time of Sachi's father with another woman, around Sachi's age. Misaki was certain this woman was not Sachi's sister.

Another picture, this time of Sachi's mother on the street at night. The lighting was too dim to see anything clearly, only that there was a man there.

An article with the headline, "Satsuya Conglomerate Buys Wakana Film and Electronics," with words highlighted: …Unexpectedly low price… little or no deliberation on the part of Wakana… Wakana's current personal issues…

A heart was pounding somewhere in the room, but Misaki was too distracted to wonder whose it was.

There must have been dozens of pictures and even more reports. There was no time to go through all of them, and Misaki had no reason to. Why was she still in the office?

"Usui Corporation Files For Bankruptcy"

Did she really just read that?

Yes, there it was, buried deep under other articles. She must have uncovered it when she moved things around. Hopefully, the principal wouldn't notice when he came back the next day.

"After an unprecedented drop in company profits last month, Usui Corporation, which holds a significant share in electronics and manufacturing, as well as software engineering, filed for bankruptcy last night. The stock market has slumped several points already and is expected to drop even more in the coming week. Usui Kazumo, the CEO, attributes his company's fall to "ruthless competition". Usui has retired to a country home overseas, but his son, Usui Shozo, remains and is determined to restore faith in his family's company. Already thirty percent of company employees have been laid off, and an additional—"

Her cell phone's default ringtone broke the silence of the office, and Misaki, out of habit, picked it up after two rings.

"Hello?"

"Misaki! Is something wrong? You've been in there for half an hour already!"

"Sakura! I'm so sorry. I guess I lost track of time—I'll be right down."

Misaki put the envelope down on the desk and paused as her hand hovered over the article about Usui's family company. Surely the principal wouldn't notice if one article was missing.

* * *

A note from the author: Thank you for your support and patience.


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